Just then, the sun broke through the clouds warming us as we stood there enjoying the ruggedness of this place. “I’m going to climb up there to that flat big one and sit down,” Althea announced.
Following close behind, I soon saw what Althea’s eagle eyes did from below. I sat down besides her. The valley dropped down below us and we had quickly hiked to a point where Bonnie was nowhere to be seen or heard. Only a large, expansive untouched forest came into view as we scanned the horizon. Not one home could be seen and no sounds could be heard from this rugged rock. No noises of snow blowers, no voices from people talking, no horns honking, nothing. The extreme quiet was deafening and the recent snow bent the bows of the trees down toward the ground. Taking a deep breath of the fresh cool mountain air, Althea said to me, “Close your eyes and tell me what the ground below us feels like.”
Trusting but not totally understanding what she meant, I complied with her request and the two of us sat there in the magical sunshine, our hands pressing against the massive boulder below us. With our feet dangling in the air, we quieted our minds and listened from within.
Several minutes passed after which time Althea said, “Does it feel good to you?”
“Yes it does. Does it to you?”
“Very much so. Now, ask the earth with your thoughts if we can build a home here and tell me what you feel.”
Closing my eyes, I again complied with her request and tried to feel if the land was indeed inviting us to it. A well-fed gray squirrel joined us chirping loudly in a bow high over our heads. Although an invasion to its privacy, his relentlessly squawking voice timed with the twitch of its tail felt like it was indeed encouraging us to stay. The lightly blowing snow and creaking trees, the dense clouds broken by moments of intense sunshine, and then the absolute stillness all felt like this was home. Then a warm surge of energy streamed up into my legs landing squarely in my heart. It took my breath away.
When skiing miles from a remote access point in an unspoiled wilderness, pausing to enjoy nature and revel in its beauty was one of the main reasons we skied the back country. There is a moment when all of this wildness fills your senses to overflowing, and your heart aches with love for the land. It’s completely euphoric making any struggle it took to get there totally insignificant. It’s an epiphany. This was one of those moments.
Althea turned to me and asked, “So what did you feel?”
“I think this is it. It feels magnificent. It feels like home.”
“I felt the same thing. It feels so calming, so right. Let’s buy it. Let’s get it today!”
I agreed and we thanked the land for this invitation. Giggling in sheer delight, we walked hand in hand down the slope retracing our steps back to the car. Finally emerging from the forest, Bonnie said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to organize a search party for you two. Do you like it?”
“Yes we do. How much do you want for it?”
Bonnie and Althea chatted about the details as we drove back to the small sales office. Taking the eastern road on the way out, we saw how big the valley was below us and how unpopulated this part of the community actually was. All of this seclusion was attractive to Althea and she became more excited than ever, especially since the land invited us to stay.
We gave Bonnie a modest down payment to hold the property and a week later we bought the land. It took a while for us to finally realize what we found that delightful day. The road to our dream home—our mountain chalet—was long and challenging, and each step brought us new lessons taxing our determination. But two long years later, we moved into paradise after another light snowfall. With the first fire snapping in the massive moss rock fireplace, we sat in the dining room amidst boxes and wrapping paper staring out of the west window at an amazing sunset.
“I’m not sure how long we’ll be here,” Althea said to me under her breath. We had encountered some unusually high expenses right at the close of our mortgage and it appeared unlikely we would last. But as our intent was pure, our hopes high, and our focus firm, we were truly blessed and found a way to stay despite the occasional test and trial. Affectionately naming the home Blizzard Gulch, we rejoiced daily in high-country rapture for over twenty one glorious years discovering the true meaning to love the land.
We fondly recall the wonderful times, the spectacular animal encounters, the huge snowfalls, the amazing parties, and the enjoyable friends we made while living so high in the sky. The time we spent there was like a dream, one from which we hoped would never end. But as with all things, in time this too would change and our adventure continued along another path.
Blizzard Gulch Headquarters
With the excitement of Dr. Taub’s radical success for treating extreme stroke victims still buzzing in my mind, I arose early to share with Althea his approach to recovery. Knowing she would relentlessly drill me with a million questions about the details, I reviewed what I read on his web site rehearsing what I would tell her. This news would give her hope for a complete recovery.
A cold steering wheel greeted me on this damp morning and my windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as I drove off to the hospital. My headlights flooded the darkness revealing early morning joggers and bicyclers. My own nervous excitement made me feel like I drank three or four espressos as I tapped the steering wheel in beat to the rock music blaring from the stereo.
Reaching the hospital in the early morning light, I found my favorite parking place filled with a small red pickup truck. So excited was I to share this amazing news with Althea that I had forgotten to set my intent on getting this spot. This is the second time I forgot to focus. There must be a lesson in this somewhere, I thought half laughing to myself. Driving to the back row, I quickly found a spot at the end and pulled one side as close to the curb as I could.
Running into the hospital at a full gallop, I felt my chest bursting to tell Althea of Dr. Taub’s clinics. Gathering up two cups of coffee from the coffee shop, I dashed off to the elevator and up to the third floor.
Althea was still asleep as I entered her room and I leaned over her bedrail waving the hot cup of coffee under her nose. Almost instantly, she began to stir. This was too easy, I thought to myself as she opened her eyes stretching her arms out to hug me.
“Good morning darling. How are you today?” I said starting to catch my breath.
“Good morning!” she responded yawning. We hugged and I handed the cup to her once she propped herself up against the headboard.
“I have some good news,” I began.
Sipping the first few drops, Althea gulped, paused, and said, “What is it?”
“Last night, I stayed with Kimberly and John. John and I talked about your condition and he said his aunt had a stroke similar to yours. He told me about a doctor who developed new techniques in successfully treating severe stroke patients achieving truly remarkable results. His name is Dr. Edward Taub.”
“Where is this doctor?” she asked in between sips.
“He is at the University of Alabama in Birmingham but he has clinics elsewhere in the country. I emailed him last night asking if there were clinics in Florida.”
Althea’s eyes began to light up behind the thin slits typical at this time of the morning. It takes at least six sips of coffee for Althea to be fully awake and by the end of her first cup she is usually ready to greet the day.
“His success in dealing with stroke victims is truly remarkable. He developed a technique called Constrained Induced Therapy that apparently has the medical world buzzing. This therapy constrains the normally functioning limb while systematically encouraging the use of the other. He claims people literally learn to not use their affected limb simply because their other limb works. Restraining the normal limb forces the body to learn to use the affected limb. Along with positive reinforcement and specialized therapies, large to very large improvements are possible. It sounds logical.”
“Do you think he could help me?”
“Of course. You are exactly t
he type of person this therapy would help. In one experiment, he surgically cut the nerve from a monkey’s brain that controlled his left arm. Then using this technique of binding the normal arm combined with other positive therapies, the monkey soon learned to retrain his brain and regain control over the diminished arm.”
“This sounds interesting.”
“Another story has a tennis player with little control over his body achieving a complete turnaround. After only three weeks of intense treatment and therapy, he was not only able to regain control over his limbs but also play tennis again. It sounds unbelievable but his success rate is excellent.”
Althea lay there quietly, and tearfulness overwhelmed her as she looked up at me. “This sounds wonderful. It gives me hope that I can get better.”
I can only imagine what Althea is going through right now but with Althea’s last statement, I see that John was right. She struggles with her inability to control her leg, arm, and eye on the left side of her body. She seems frustrated with her lack of control and exhibits the same pattern Dr. Taub describes in his literature. He calls this learned non-use where people because of their frustration wait patiently for something to change. While waiting, they use the working limb thereby training their brains to ignore the other. The longer the other limb is ignored, the more likely it will not recover its use.
From this moment on, Althea became more determined to recover than ever. Hearing this radical approach brings light again to her life. I can see her fantasizing of how lovely life will be once she regains control of her body. She started using her left side more and demanding more from it. She made a conscious effort to use her left arm to brush her teeth, eat her food, and draw with her pencil. Although erratic, this approach provided almost immediate results.
Carrying this concept further, she closed her right eye forcing her left eye to see. Again at the start, her eye watered and things appeared blurry. But in time, this too began to return to normalcy. Walking to the restroom, she willed her left leg to move, over and over again. Using whatever she could reach, she balanced on her right leg and took leading steps with her left.
Her conviction was complete and I marveled at her determination. She was a changed person from just a few words. The approach Dr. Taub discovered was also true for Althea’s condition. Her instant results can only be described as miraculous.
I believe it was no accident I stayed with Kimberly and John last night. I believe I was meant to talk with John about his aunt. I believe that without his aunt’s condition, John would not have been aware of Dr. Taub and he would not have shared this miracle with me. I believe there is no such thing as coincidence. This was meant to happen, just as it did. Like stacked dominoes, one circumstance fell over onto the next finally reaching me.
John’s suggestion made me research Dr. Taub and then I shared it with Althea the next morning. The mere thought of such a radical therapy made immediate sense to Althea who embraced it without hesitation or fear. She viewed her condition as a whole and letting her entire person—mind, body and spirit—work as one. Focusing on her left side, she only used her right side as a comparison to gauge how much closer she was in making it whole.
I left the hospital very early today to do some work at home for my job. The whole time, all I could think about was the stern look of resolve on Althea’s face. Her determination synergistically combined with my enthusiasm into a whirlwind of excitement and hopeful possibilities for the future. Now she had a tool she could use to help her regain what she had lost. This simple healing technique of Dr. Taub’s felt right and resonated deep within her soul.
When I got home, I called Dr. Taub’s office, too excited to wait for an email.
“Hello. My wife is recovering from a subdural hematoma and a friend told us of your clinic. Can you answer some questions I have?”
“Yes I can,” a compassionate woman on the other end of the phone replied.
“We live in Florida and I know you are located in Alabama. Are there other clinics located near Tampa or Orlando?”
“I can send you a list of the physicians trained in our methods.” The woman took down our address information and continued. “Are there other questions?”
“Are there any requirements or prerequisites for admittance to your program?”
“Each patient must be able to walk at least twenty feet before being admitted for treatment. She can use a walker if she needs to. Can your wife do this?”
“No she cannot. She is still in the hospital gaining strength every day.”
“Once she can do this, then we should talk again.”
Hanging up the phone, I felt even more excited now that she did not have to go to Alabama. A central Florida location alleviates many of my concerns about us being apart. Althea will be thrilled to hear about this tomorrow. I cannot wait to get the information in the mail to see exactly where these other locations are. This was very good news. This was the hope Althea desperately needed.
Hope changes the energies inside you and brings with it grace, longing, and desire. Hope is healing and nurturing and integrates your mind, body and spirit. Like a steroid, hope supercharges positive thinking transforming it into meaning. Hope is an amazing miracle.
Chapter 22 — March 11, 2008 — Day 20
* * *
Thrill seeking and trying the unusual is a recurring theme in Althea’s adventures, and traveling abroad has no influence on taming these carefree characteristic. In the winter of 1983, we ventured to Mazatlan, Mexico, for a week of fun in the surf, sand, and sun. Flying nonstop from Denver, we left the bitter cold and snow behind on the long, cramped flight to the southern tropics.
While I looked forward to jogging on the beach just before sunrise, my mid thirties wife had a little more mischief in mind. Body surfing, bar hopping, sightseeing, deep sea fishing, and fine dining were all things on her personal “to do” list. Given time, she embraced every item on this list with her typical passion and contagious enthusiasm. After a few days of wandering the streets, getting lost and adapting to the laid-back lifestyle, we stayed at the beach and relaxed in the sun on an uneventful day.
The warm winds blew across the transparent blue Pacific waters and the hypnotic sound of the slowly crashing tide lulled us to sleep. Only now and then did we arise to dip into the refreshing waters and cool down. Nearby horse rides splashed in the surf and sail boats dotted the horizon. Althea’s bright blue bathing suit struck a stunning contrast to her now well tanned body. What a babe! I thought lying next to her. I am so lucky.
Late in the afternoon, the slow droll of boat motors mingled with the sounds of the chirping sea gulls catching Althea’s attention. Looking around the beach, she saw a person towed behind one of these boats in a parachute. “That looks like fun!” she said to me with that tone in her voice letting me know she was about to do something truly entertaining. “I want to do that.”
“Are you sure? Remember, you are the one who is afraid of heights.”
“It’s safe. At least a dozen others have been up just in the past hour. I’ll be in a harness and I’ll be high in the sky and able to see everything around us. Come on…it will be fun.”
Althea kept her eyes on each of the companies offering parasailing rides as we walked down the beach together. Some offered long rides and others longer ropes. Althea opted for the boat with the longest rope she could find and made her way over to the crowded line of people waiting for their turns.
The small motorboat captain was a cheerful chap with brown eyes and a short brown beard framing his well-fed round face. Protruding from his loose fitting white clothing were stubbly calloused fingers hinting at his experience in the sea faring world. His hands quickly snapped buckles on the parachute harness of the patrons and tied knots on the boat displaying his thorough familiarity with this sport. Finally, we got to the head of the line.
“Senor wishes to fly?” he asked me with an almost musical dance in his voice.
“No, the Senora does,
” I replied
“Ah, Senora…this way.”
“Is this completely safe?” Althea asked him as she followed him down the beach to his awaiting helper.
“Of course. I have been giving rides for years. You will have much fun,” he said trying to dispel the growing concerns in Althea’s mind.
I watched from the shore as Althea stepped into the thick black harness the two men cinched around her. With a few simple instructions on how to descend by pulling on one of the ropes, the parachute inflated in the breeze behind her pulling hard against her harness and taking the slack out of the rope that tied her to the boat.
As the motor started, Althea took two steps toward the water and without warning, her feet lifted high off the ground. “Wee!” she shouted with glee as she rose higher and higher into the sky. The white cottony clouds framed a gorgeous backdrop to this young, thin woman now flying high over my head.
Althea: A Story of Love Page 31
